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The Book of Poetry · 1 passage
VIII The Chien Chien Chih Shih; narrative. Commemorating the hardships of a long and difficult expedition to the east, aggravated by great rains. 1How high those frowning rocks arise! With awe they fill the mind. p. 328 Our way through streams, o’er mountains lies; Toilsome the march we find. Eastward our expedition goes, Nor has our chief one hour's repose. 2Those frowning rocks the heights surmount, And fill the mind with dread. O’er hills, through streams, our steps we count; When shall our march be sped? Our warrior hastens on the track, Nor thinks he of our drawing back. 3Look at the swine, with legs all white, Washed by the pools from stain! The moon wades through the Hyads bright, Foretelling heavier rain. He at whose word we eastward fare No leisure has for other care.
Source: Internet Sacred Text Archive, file cfu/bop/bop241.htm.
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